


I Don't Believe In Satan

by valedecems



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Lucifer (TV)
Genre: AU, Amenadiel (Lucifer TV) Being an Asshole, Angst, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Background Dan Espinoza, Background Ella Lopez, Background Mazikeen (Lucifer TV), But he redeems himself so it's ok i guess, Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Chloe Decker Finds Out, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Dan Espinoza Being an Asshole, Ella Lopez saves the day, Emotional Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), F/M, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV) is a Mess, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Protective Amenadiel (Lucifer TV), Protective Crowley, Regret, Winged Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-13 18:24:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 20,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20178718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valedecems/pseuds/valedecems
Summary: "I didn't mean to fall, I just hung out with the wrong people"Months after the Apocalypse was adjourned by Aziraphale and Crowley, they hear whispers of the defeated residing listlessly in Los Angeles.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [neongrvstxnes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/neongrvstxnes/gifts).

It was a stormy day in England, air hanging tight to the people who dared traverse through it coupled with wind that billowed through the leaves outside of Aziraphale's bookshop with gusts that seemed to be coded in violence. It was safe inside, the angel had decided, as had the dozen people who seemed to be vacantly observing his books with absolutely no intention of paying for one. Perhaps they thought that if they stayed here for half an hour, the weather would clear and they could go home dry.  
He looked up as the rain began to pick up, wincing as the gentle patters of water turned into heavy, violent smears across his windows. Of course, he didn't mind much - it saved him cleaning them tomorrow. He had been beginning to zone out when the headlights of a car seeped through the glass of his business' front door, beaming onto the vintage display before abruptly turning off, followed seconds later by the jingle of a bell as his door swang open. So hard, in fact, that it rocked a couple of the bookcases - and Aziraphale had to stop himself from tending to them before he cast his eyes on the figure in front of him.

Crowley was soaked from head to toe, likely a result of the few seconds he spent out in that dreadful weather. His hair stuck tight to his forehead, sunglasses pooling droplets that fell onto the floorboards he was standing on, next to the footprints his dramatic entrance had left. He was staring straight at Aziraphale with an unreadable expression, and he allowed the moment to continue for a couple of seconds before tutting "well, are you going to shut the door behind you?" at the demon.  
Crowley didn't move. Standing, staring at the angel in such a way that sent shivers up his own spine. "Right," Aziraphale said, walking over to shut the door himself - rolling his eyes all the way. When he turned to return to the till, he felt a harsh, iron grip on his arm. Crowley had turned his head to look at him now, moving with snapping jerks. Perhaps then was the point at which the angel truly realised that there was something very, very wrong.  
Without missing a beat, he called out "shop's closed!" To the few patrons left perusing the bookshelves. When they hesitated, he repeated "Closed!" In a much sharper, succinct tone. He had never been good at ordering people about. Crowley was definitely better at that, but he seemed to be out of action at that moment.

When the customers cleared, Aziraphale led Crowley by the arm to one of the seats, pushing him to sit down before he shuffled off to boil the kettle. Tea could probably help this. It was a wonderful substance, after all.  
While he was stirring the sugar into Crowley's cup (seven teaspoons, to be exact), he heard the demon's voice, crackly and strange-sounding in the hanging silence of the room.   
"He's back,"  
"Who's back?"  
No response.   
Aziraphale put the cup on the table next to the demon, parking himself on the seat across. His own brew was warming his hands to quite a comfortable extent. "Crowley, who's back?" He spoke firmly, mind racing.  
Crowley seemed to whisper back, and the angel cursed him mentally - why could he not just spit this out? It would be easier for both of them if he stopped being so dramatic. Surely it couldn't be -  
He must have realised that Aziraphale hadn't heard what he said, because when Crowley repeated himself, he seemed to scream the word. Maybe it was just the quiet of the bookshop, or the rain shattering against his window that was beginning to seem more and more like a cliche attempt at a pathetic fallacy, but the word "Satan!" seemed to resonate through every floorboard, every crevice and crack that the shop bore.

And then, silence again. As if the word had not been screamed, as if what he had just told the angel did not infer dire consequences to the world, as if their tea wasn't growing colder with every passing second.   
"But we -"  
"I know."  
"Are you-"  
"Yes."  
"It's -"  
"Impossible?!" His brief responses were suddenly replaced with an aggravated, incredulous tone. "Yes! I thought so too! But apparently, Aziraphale, when we said he'd be back _two months ago_, we were absolutely correct!"  
"Where is he?" Aziraphale replied quietly, somewhat put out by the demon's aggression.  
"Los Angeles. Apparently. Ironic, that. Bet he did that just to spite - us" he seemed to pause before saying us, and while it piqued his curiosity, Az knew all too well that now was not the time. The time was probably never, considering the foul mood that Crowley appeared to be in.   
"How do you know?"  
"I have my people." Crowley said. It certainly wasn't the time for Aziraphale to comment that those 'people' were probably notification settings for words pertaining to 'Satan' cropping up on the internet.  
"So what do we do?"  
"We go. Now." The demon didn't waste any time standing and storming out of the shop, expecting - correctly - that Aziraphale would follow after him.

Their tea was going to be left cold for a very long time.


	2. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm Gonna Do My Thing - Royal Deluxe

It had been a long three weeks in Los Angeles. Lucifer had been off of his mojo for the past two months, at least, with an unexpected figure from the past cropping up, getting on his back about everything -  
God, he made himself laugh. 

Of course, right when he needed someone, there was no-one left to turn to. Amenadiel had fled to the silver city. Mazikeen was off in the middle of nowhere hunting an illusive man; even Chloe had fobbed him off and told him he needed to take some time off after his last stint at work.  
He didn't think it was so bad, draining a bar of booze - even if it was an active crime scene. They weren't exactly going to be _using _the bourbon. A massive mess, she called it - said to come back when he'd sorted whatever was going on out. Perhaps it was all just coming back to him, every little moment that had haunted his unconscious mind for the past year. 

He saw Uriel in every mirror in his penthouse. His mother in every dark hallway. Each day had chipped away at him for the past month - perhaps the past two. There was something about the passing of the days that reminded him of hell - the way the sun seemed to loiter in its place in the sky for twice as long as it usually did. The way his eyes drooped, but he never grew tired - it all felt like the games he played with the prisoners within his own personal section of Hell. It was wrong, all a pathetic use of irony on his own mind. Perhaps it was all a farce, perhaps there was outside work at play here, but he was aware that, with his own home's rules in mind, that if he truly was going through hell at this point then he was the only person to blame.

So he sat wallowing in his own home, his fingers caressing the minor chords on his piano and his lights darkened to fit the sullen atmosphere within his own mind, only rearing his head in Lux to pick up another bottle of brown. He'd nod at the people who called his name, even crack a smile at the group of Britneys who tried to gesture for him to join them. It all meant nothing, he realised now - especially as he lay surrounded in his own pity.

He was dozing on a sofa with a glass lazily held between his fingers when his elevator gently chimed, waking him from half-dreams to signal that a visitor had arrived. "Not tonight, Britneys, I'm not really feeling it. Maze is out-" he interrupted himself when he saw the face of Chloe light itself up in the dimmed room. "Hello. Suppose you're here to chide me about my decisions regarding my leave, or tell me that I need to sort myself -"  
"It's about a case,"  
"Of course it is." He sighed, swilling the glass before he chugged the rest of the whiskey. "And what on Earth could be so pressing that you require my help that _you_ described as useless?" Bitterness dripped through every single syllable.   
She seemed to ignore the insolence in his tone, though. "Because the perp specifically asked for you." She replied. Her voice didn't waiver, still as matter-of-fact as it always was. "Lucifer, I know that you're not great recently but I could really use your help."  
"Don't patronise me, detective." He grumbled. "Who's my knight in shining armour, then?"  
"His name's Anthony, apparently, but we've got no files on him. Just a driving license."   
"Anthony doesn't ring a bell. Sorry. Once again, no help at all. If you're done here, I was just going to finish this bottle on my own and wallow in my own uselessness."   
"What about Crowley?"

A moment passed. And then another. "Crowley?" He repeated, his petulant attitude shattering; thus allowing a sudden look of realisation to pass across his face. "Okay, I vaguely recognise that name. Maybe. But I don't know why that matters. I'm sure whatever he wants could be sorted out by someone else."  
"He assaulted someone and turned himself in. Told us that the only person he would explain it all to was Lucifer Morningstar. So yes, Lucifer. We... I need you."  
"_You _need me? Need I reference the fact that _you _are the one who sent me away? Cast me out of the station like a dejected dog? What do I look like to you, detective? A game that you pick up and dust off when the power's out?"  
"Lucifer," She seemed dejected. "Please."

Of course, this wasn't about Chloe. It would never be about Chloe. But here he was, finding a reason to blame her for every problem that he couldn't put his finger on the cause of. Searching for a lifejacket that he could pop for a reason to drown. They stared at each other in silence for a little while, but Lucifer broke first. "Fine! I'll do it, I just need to... Give me a couple of hours."

* * *

Lucifer arrived at the precinct two hours later, just as he had promised, looking much better than he had previously. Hair meticulously styled, clothing ironed and perfectly shaped. "Let's get this show on the road," he muttered to himself, strolling over to Chloe. "So, what happened to our rabid little jailbird?" He asked.  
"Threw a random in a cafe down 6th street against a wall and threatened to empty his guts if he didn't spill where Lucifer Morningstar was. When he didn't know anything, he just sauntered to... An officer, and told him what happened, told him he'd only explain who he was if he could see you."  
"Right. Okay, great, and where is he?"   
Chloe pointed to the interrogation room. "I'll come with you."  
"No." He interjected quickly. "I'm not going to go mental on you. I can do this on my own."   
She paused for a moment, taking the time to look him over before she nodded slowly. "Okay. Okay. But please don't -"  
He was already walking away before she could finish her sentence. "I know, protocol, no violence, it's _fine_ detective, I'll be out in ten!"

He was not going to be out in ten.

Lucifer opened the door to two men sitting across the table. A man with dark hair, sunglasses, and a fashion sense that went all the way down to the devil in the details - and the man next to him a stark contrast - practically brimming with innocent energy.  
"Crawly." Lucifer said bluntly, then cast his gaze to the other, taking a second to squint, really analyse the person in front of him. "Aziraphale. I haven't seen your face in a while."  
"It's Crowley now, actually," Aziraphale commented, but was quickly cut off by a shared glare.  
"What are you doing here, Lucifer?" While phrased like a question, it certainly didn't sound like one - more of a threat from Crowley's gravelly throat. Sounded like he'd been shouting.  
"Solving crimes, making deals, the whole rigmarole," he replied, trying his best not to react to the tense atmosphere. "Why? Hell getting cold without me paying for the central heating?"  
"I think you forgot triggering Armageddon." Crowley grumbled. Aziraphale only sat, avoiding eye contact with the two demons. It was likely that head office was going to have something to say to him about this.   
"Armageddon? What on Earth -"  
"Don't act like you don't know, Samael. We beat you, a little boy shouted at you and you sank back into your hole where you _belong_."  
The mask broke for a few seconds, and Lucifer clenched his fists. "Don't call me that, Crowley." Despite himself, his tone stayed consistent - remaining as calm as he possibly could given the situation. "Now I know that things must have been difficult for you all down there while I've been on my holiday, but there is no need to throw these accusations at me without any solid -"  
"You _erupted from the Earth_, Lucifer! You tried to destroy everything through your son, triggered the apocalypse, and you're laying low here now that we sent you away because you're trying to ruin it all _again_!"  
"I don't know what you're -"   
"I think -" Aziraphale took his chance to interrupt, speaking for the first time and cutting through the tension as swiftly as he could. "I think what Crowley means, Lucifer, is two months ago, Armaggedon was triggered by the naming of the Hellhound, the joining of the horseman, that whole spiel - and we're wondering, well, why are you... Here? Out in the open? Surely you would be healing? Rejuvenating after your loss?"   
"Two months ago?" Lucifer breathed.  
"Around then, yes. You don't forget the date of Armageddon in a hurry."   
"We have a lot to talk about," Lucifer concluded.  
"Yes," Crowley responded gruffly.


	3. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doin' Time - Lana Del Rey

"The city of angels," Aziraphale said dreamily, looking around at the city. As a rat scurried past him, his nose scrunched. "Perhaps not such a fitting name."  
"We're not here to gawk, Aziraphale. This isn't a holiday, this is a job. We're working here."  
"I was meant to be working at home. I hope everything was locked up okay. You rushed me out a bit."  
"If anyone was going to steal a book from your little hut, they would have already."

Aziraphale couldn't blame Crowley for his snappy behaviour. He seemed rather stressed - more stressed than he originally had been when he stood facing the incarnate of evil himself in their own hometown. Maybe it was the new area that was stressing him out so heavily, or perhaps it was something else. Regardless, he wasn't planning on prying any time soon - there seemed to be more at stake here than a little tiff between the two of them about his books. They _were_ his pride and joy, but without a world to read them in, there would be absolutely no point.

"Crowley, what exactly _is_ your plan? This is a city, not a village - we had a difficult enough time tracking Adam down, and we are a long way from Tadfield." Aziraphale asked, concerned. He truly had no idea what the demon was thinking; and behind those sunglasses, there was no way to gauge his expression.  
"Read that he's working with the LAPD. Could probably draw some attention to ourselves, demand that we see him."  
"And how do we plan on doing that?"  
"I don't know. Fancy a coffee?"  
Crowley didn't wait for his response before storming into the first coffee shop he saw and grabbing one of the patrons.

Aziraphale winced at the sight in front of him. Crowley had nearly battered the man - witnessed him almost slip into his old habits, but stayed silent, standing in the corner as Crowley demanded Satan's whereabouts, much to the dismay of the relatively mundane looking man as he hung from the demon's grip, slammed against the faux brick wall. It was a nice coffee shop, Az noted - the falsely exposed brick mixed with the tiles of the floor gave it an industrial feel that somehow added to the homeliness of the whole area in somewhat of a juxtaposition of itself. He wasn't positive as to whether the exposed ceiling pipes were an intentional addition, but chose not to judge the way that Americans furnished their businesses.   
His thoughts were cut off by the shouts of another customer, something to do with "getting work done over here" - and Aziraphale truly had to take a moment to respect the lack of self awareness that humans managed to carry. But once the demon was finished terrorising the now-collapsed man, the angel took the stand to walk over, remove the watch from his wrist and hand it to him. "Very sorry. He's had a bad day. All the best to you in the future." He offered the heap of a human a smile and a pat on the back before quickly shuffling to catch up with Crowley, who had stormed out of the building and toward a patrolling officer on the street.

"I just assaulted a man," Crowley said bluntly to the blank-faced man, bearing his wrists out toward him.  
"Yeah, right buddy. That's nice of you to tell me, but I'm kind of busy."  
Aziraphale cringed at the man's attitude toward the demon, aware that this was certainly not going to end well.  
"I can punch you. Bring me in." Crowley seemed to order the man - to his apparent amusement, as he chuckled at the men in front of them. They did look a sight, really. Crowley was dressed far too formally to appear to be a criminal, but he certainly wasn't laughing for long before an open hand swooped into his cheek. 

The back of the police car was pretty nice. It seemed to be clean, but Aziraphale couldn't help but shiver at the idea of all the awful people who had been parked right where he was sat, considering all the horrible things they must have done, staring out this very same window. 

* * *

The police station felt very sterilised, and Aziraphale found himself tempted to err toward the bookshelves over in the corner. He didn't mind much that they were populated with books about murderers and violence and their tendencies - as long as he was reading something, he would have been pleased, but instead they were shuffled off into a small room, only decorated with a table and a few chairs either side.

A woman entered the room shortly after them, looking the two of them over.  
"My name is Detective Decker. Care to explain what happened out there?"  
"Hit your colleague," Crowley replied abruptly, and Aziraphale could only offer her a pitying look.  
"Who are you two?" She asked.  
"Oh - this is Anthony J Crowley, and I am... Fell,"   
"Fell?"   
"A. Z Fell."  
Detective Decker paused. "Okay. Cool. So, you are..."  
"His solici- lawyer. I am his lawyer." He seemed very proud of himself. "We are fully prepared to co-operate given one condition."  
"I don't believe you're in a position to propose a deal. Your client assaulted a police officer."  
"I want to speak to Lucifer," Crowley interjected. Decker seemed taken aback. "I'll do whatever you want me to do. Pay you whatever, issue a grovelling apology to your colleague, give him an ice pack, that's it."  
"Fully? You'll fully co-operate?" Decker still appeared somewhat shocked, and Aziraphale supposed that this meant that she knew of the man that they were talking about. Perhaps they were in cahoots. They may have to watch out for that.   
"Yes," Crowley replied bluntly, and Az nodded, smiling reassuringly. In response, the detective only sighed, standing and leaving them on their own once again.  
"I'll see what I can do." She spoke as she left the room.  
"Brilliant," Aziraphale said, turning his head to Crowley. He was still in a foul mood, and he considered giving him a friendly pat on the back or a reassuring rub on the shoulder, but decided against it.

The two wondered separately what could take the Devil two hours to get prepared to come and speak to them. Was he sharpening his horns, or burning his skin for a maximum effect of demonic appearance?  
No, they both concluded, as the finely polished man strolled through the door to the station and Aziraphale could feel the atmosphere in the room become immeasurably more tense, hearing as Crowley's breath caught.   
"Doesn't look very demonic," Aziraphale commented quietly, breaking the quiet between them.  
"He never did," Crowley murmured back.

* * *

"You don't understand, Crowley. I've been here for seven years. I've got a stone alibi. The detective can attest to that. Everyone here can attest to that. I don't understand what you're trying to accuse me of," the devil had said. "If there was an Armageddon, I wasn't aware of it."  
"Well, yes," Aziraphale responded. "Because we stopped it."  
Crowley cast him a look. "We saw you. You were there. Big beast in front of us, exploding from the Earth like a volcano forming in fast forward."  
"Crowley, you don't understand. I wasn't _there_. I've had my own things to sort out in the past two months. I've been _here_."   
"How do we know you're telling the truth?" Aziraphale commented, and both of them seemed to look at him with the exact same expression on their faces. "Have I said something wrong?"  
"The devil doesn't lie." They spoke in almost perfect unison, their voices mingling eerily within the room. There was a beat of silence between the two of them.

"I think I understand," Lucifer said, breathing in sharply. "The thing you saw, this beast, all horns and violence and.. Eruption," He held his breath for a second. Each glance he cast toward Crowley was quickly averted, and vice versa - there was a tension between the two of them that wasn't making sense in Aziraphale's mind. "The creature is me, yes, but not _me_. The Beast is the body, the real personification of Hell and sin and the perception of evil that was forced onto... Well, onto me. But this is the mind. I am the mind, considerably more human than what you saw."  
"So you did start Armageddon." Aziraphale spoke, confused.  
"A part of me did. I didn't, not consciously."  
"But you had a child. I doubt the beast was worried about impregnating a human." Crowley spoke in an accusatory tone, but it was was with considerably less 'oomf' than it had been previously.   
"The devil gets around," Lucifer replied with a chuckle, but what seemed to be a joke to the devil certainly did not ring the same to Crowley. He muttered something inaudible Aziraphale couldn’t make out, shuddering as the hellspawn made prolonged eye contact.  
"So, I'm sorry, you have no intention of kicking Armageddon off again?" Aziraphale prompted, and the devil laughed.  
"Of course not! I have a life here. Quite enjoyable, really. All sex, drugs, and rock and roll. I mean, you've seen it - Earth is a delightful little playground." He cast his gaze once again at Crowley when he said that, and Az couldn't help but feel like he was interrupting something - and also couldn't help the growing pressure in his chest that grew with every second of eye contact they shared. There was something wrong here - something that wasn't adding up, and Az hated plot holes. 

Before he could find the time to make a comment, ask if the two have history, perhaps grab Crowley and engulf him right there to show that _actually_, they were both here, and _actually,_ Crowley had never spoken about Lucifer; so whatever tension was lying between them was absolutely unnecessary and _should_ have been dead and buried a long time ago, Decker returned to the interrogation room.  
"Everything okay in here?" She asked, casting a concerned look toward Lucifer.  
"Absolutely fine. All good. Just a big misunderstanding. We can all go home and forget this whole thing ever happened."  
"He punched a police officer."  
"He punched _Dan_. I have to respect that. You have to respect that. It's all fine." He stood up to leave, heading toward the door, but was stopped by a hand on his arm - an act that seemed reminiscent of the event between Aziraphale and Crowley in the coffee shop not long ago.   
"Is it fine, Lucifer?" She asked, her eyebrows furrowed.  
The devil paused, staring back down at her. Despite being quite a bit taller than the detective, he seemed to shrink in her gaze. "Yes," he responded. "It is." Lucifer tensed his jaw, before looking back at Az and Crowley. "They're coming back with me. We're gonna have a catch up. Old friends, like I said. Everything's fine. It's fine." The only man he seemed to be trying to convince was himself.   
"You can't -"  
"I can do whatever I want," he cast a gaze of warning toward her, then started heading out.

After a second, the two followed after him.


	4. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Break My Heart Again - Finneas

Lucifer's corvette would not fit three people.

As they approached the car, he cast a glance over to the angel and the demon who had been walking in silence behind him, trudging along to the same beat. "I'll order one of you an Uber." He said, waving over to the two empty seats in the front of the car. the two cast a glance toward each other, and a silent conversation seemed to pass between them within a few seconds.  
"Crowley will join you. I'd like to just traipse around Los Angeles for a while, see the sights." Aziraphale said cheerily. "Where should I ask to be taken when I'm ready to join you?"  
"Lux," Lucifer replied, already slipping into the driver's seat. He was halfway hoping that the angel would join him, saving an awkward journey at least. When Crowley had joined him in the passenger side and Aziraphale had strode away, the car started up, and they began the drive.

Lucifer had never really considered how long this journey was. In reality, it was probably only ten minutes - but paired with LA's horrific traffic problem, it was more like thirty. It only took four minutes, driven in silence, to approach their first queue.  
It didn't look like it was going to be moving any time soon, and Lucifer hated the quiet.  
"It's been a while, hasn't it?" He said, barely audible over the cacophany of car engines and horns. "How have you been?"  
"Great," Crowley replied, seemingly uninterested in what Lucifer had to say.  
He switched the ignition off, turning his head toward the demon. "Look at me," it was an order, but far too emotional to hold any kind of traction.  
But he did. The demon removed the sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose, and cast his eyes toward the devil. If he was feeling anything, Lucifer couldn't see it. "Happy?"  
"I know you didn't just come here because of Armageddon, Crowley. I'm not an idiot."  
"Because everything's always about you, right?" Crowley responded, his monotonous wall beginning to break down. "Nothing can ever happen without it being about you."  
"You knew about the beast, Crowley. I know you don't think much of me, but I'm really not stupid."   
"Would you just pay attention to the road?" The demon barked, and Lucifer returned his gaze to see that it was all moving again. The one day he needed Los Angeles traffic to be as mind-numbingly still as it always was, and it starts moving normally.

The rest of the journey was made in silence, listening to the wind clip past their ears with no accompaniment of music or idle chit-chat. They arrived at Lux rather quickly, and stood alongside each other in the elevator with an awkward hanging tension.  
"I am sorry, you know." Lucifer said softly, hoping to ease the standoffishness between them.  
"For which part?" Each word of Crowley's seemed to stab in the devil's direction without his gaze ever leaving the door. Lucifer stood speechless as the doors pinged, opened, and Crowley stomed into the penthouse.

"You know I've changed," Lucifer poured two glasses of whiskey out, placing one on the piano and the other on the coffee table that Crowley stood close to. "I'm in therapy now."  
"As can be said for most LA natives. Not a surprise, really. Paying someone to listen to you drone on and on about yourself." Despite himself, the demon reached down to the glass, holding it between two palms like he was nursing a mug of hot chocolate in a bitter winter.  
"Things are different now. I have a life here."  
"I really don't care."  
"I _know_ you do!" Lucifer shouted, composure shattering into pieces. "Otherwise you wouldn't be here! You wouldn't have risked exposure by attacking Dan! You wouldn't have cared!"  
"That's where you're wrong, _Samael_-"  
The glass in Lucifer's hand cracked and disintegrated in response to the name. A feral expression passed across the devil's face. "Don't you dare." He warned.  
"You're just a vengeful little boy. Cast down by your father, alienated by your brothers, unloved, ignor-"  
A tear of fabric paired itself with a roar that sounded a little less than human as great white wings erupted behind Lucifer. As they unfurled, bottles were wiped off his shelves and stools were knocked over. The devil wheezed, his fists clenched, eyes closed, brow furrowed.  
The facade had shattered with the bottles, and Crowley could only stand and gawk at the brilliant white appendages that hung before him. Of course, he had seen Lucifer's wings before, but they had been rotted and dark, wiry things that resembled those of a bat's. No, these were different. These were new. He cursed himself for thinking it, but they were almost more mesmerising than Aziraphale's. He didn't notice himself put his glass down, but he must have, because he was reaching out to touch the appendages with tentative hands. They were real.   
"Lucifer," he said quietly, all of his previous grandeur lost in the wind. The devil's eyes were still squeezed shut, and when they opened, they were damp. "How long -"  
"Two months." Lucifer replied. "It appears that when you defeated the beast, you defeated the devil, and left only -"  
"Samael."  
"Stop,"  
"Have you talked to anyone - does anyone know what this means?"  
"Amenadiel is gone. Disappeared around the same time. Said there was business to tend to in the silver city."  
"All the angels congregated for Armageddon,"   
"Makes sense," They were speaking normally, as if there weren't glowing wings twitching behind Lucifer's frame. He looked small compared to them, like they were ruling him rather than the opposite. He looked afraid, and it was triggering feelings that Crowley had thought that he buried a very, very long time ago. "Maybe he had other business to tend to."  
A beat of silence, before Lucifer spoke again. "Crowley, I truly am sorry."  
"I see," Crowley nodded. Millenia of hurt was seeping through his organ-less chest. If he had a heart, he supposed it would be beating a mile a minute. "But it can't - we can't -"  
"I know."  
"You do?"

The two took a longer couple of seconds to really study each other. In an attempt to lighten the mood, Lucifer asked "so, why Crowley?"  
"What do you mean?"  
"Why did you change your name from Crawley?" He asked. "Seems a bit obsolete."  
"It was all a little too... crawling-at-your-feet-ish. Gave it more of an edge."   
"I see." Another beat of silence. "Would you like to go down and get another drink?" 


	5. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a Black Out - Hamilton Leithauser & Rostam

Aziraphale found himself sitting on a bench in the middle of a park, holding a cardboard cup filled with what Americans tried - and failed - to pass off as tea. He yearned for the brews he had back at his house, cursing himself for not packing teabags before chasing Crowley out of the shop without so much as a question. The sun suggested that it was growing to be quite late in the day, and he was wondering what was stopping him from heading to Lux right now. Maybe it was the fear of what he would see there - what if Lucifer had slaughtered Crowley like cattle? He shivered despite the warmth around him, thankful for his angelic resistance to temperature; a three piece suit certainly did not fit in this summer climate. 

"Hello," it was that detective from earlier. She was still in her uniform, and Aziraphale supposed she must have clocked out only a few minutes ago. The park was quite close to the station - he hadn't strayed too far for fear that he would get lost in the maze of highrise buildings.   
"Hello again," he responded with a smile. "Decker, wasn't it?"  
"Chloe's fine. I'm not working." She sat down next to him, leaving a little bit of space in between the two of them. "What was that earlier? I know that Anthony is your client, but you two seemed to have a past with Lucifer."  
"I certainly don't." Aziraphale scoffed, but then shook his head. "But I suppose Crowley must. It's all very new to me, too. I don't know what I expected, coming here."  
"So you're not his lawyer?"   
"I know my law. I'm just more of a guardian."   
"Huh." 

Birds chirped around the two of them, creating a serene vibe around them; something that Aziraphale didn't perceive as possible within such a city rampant with crime. This woman, whoever she was to the devil, appeared to have an aura of an ethereal nature that he'd only ever seen present among his heavenly siblings.  
"You both left with him. Why are you here?" Chloe broke the trance that Az had found himself in, and he gave a wry smile.  
"Three's a crowd, Chloe." She nodded at that, and he could almost see the cogs turning in her head as each thought drove to the front of her mind.   
"How does - how do they know each other? Do you know?"  
"No. I suppose they must have grown up together."  
"Lucifer doesn't talk about his past a lot."  
"No. I wouldn't imagine he does,"  
Chloe met his eyes then, as if she could see straight through him, analysing everything he was saying, searching for a tell. Aziraphale looked away, feeling as though he had to before he launched into divulging all of his secrets and thoughts.  
"So you know him?" He asked, and she nodded for a second, then shrugged.  
"Sometimes I think I do. But then it's like... A switch flips, and he turns into something completely different. I thought I'd broken down all of those walls, but they just keep growing back, stronger than before." She paused. "I feel like I could talk to him about anything, you know? But then I look at him, and it's like every time he sees me he puts up this wall and changes. Sometimes I'm worried that how he acts when I think he's hiding something is the only time he's telling the truth." Once she finished speaking, she blinked, shaking her head. "I don't know why I told you that. Sorry."  
"It's okay. I understand. It would seem that we're in a similar boat." The angel absently straightened his jacket. "Maybe the wall with you is up because he wants you to see what he believes is the best part of him. When it's down, he doesn't want you to see that part of him, because he doesn't believe he deserves you."  
Chloe seemed deep in thought for a while. "That makes sense, I guess. But I don't know why."  
"He thinks he's evil, and wants you to see it so that he has a reason to hate himself. While someone loves him, he is aware that he has loveable features, and that makes you collateral."  
"I thought you said you didn't know him," she questioned, and Az had to process the fact that yes, he was definitely projecting his own issues with Crowley onto the devil.  
"Just a guess." He said, but she didn't seem very convinced.  
"Right. Do you want a lift to Lux? I'd like to check in on Lucifer anyway."  
"That would be nice."

* * *

The club seemed filled to the brim with scantily clad women and men awkwardly congregated around tables, gathering up the courage to go and talk to them. Of course, these women were going to co-operate, but Aziraphale supposed that their hesitance was a result of pride - a misled belief that maybe, the women they were admiring were going to approach them first. They were all here for a good time.  
He and Chloe shuffled through the crowd, freezing as they witnessed the sight in front of them.

When they'd left, Crowley and Lucifer looked like they were amidst a row that was going to last centuries. But there they sat at the piano, with Crowley belting a song Az recognised from their car rides, And Lucifer playing alongside him, harmonising little verses with the demon. Aziraphale and Chloe shared a look - an _'are you seeing this?'_ look - that confirmed to each other that yes, in fact, they were seeing this sight in front of them, and the two shared a mutual hurt that neither were going to explain to anyone any time soon.  
  


"_Was the fin on your back part of the - _Aziraphale!" Crowley caught the angel's eyes with a wide grin. "Come on, you know this one!" He gestured for Lucifer to continue playing, grabbing Az by the arm and pulling him in to a strange dance as he continued the half-shouting, half-singing performance. "_Death on two legs, you're tearing me a__part_," his face scrunched up when Aziraphale didn't comply to the act. "Come on, angel, we've got a crowd!"  
"What in Heaven is going on, Crowley?" Az asked, his voice hushed.  
"Hm?" Crowley leaned in closer, gesturing for the man to repeat himself.  
"What's going on here?" Chloe interrupted, her voice loud over the sound of the piano, that stopped rather quickly.  
"Just a catch up between old friends, detective. Grab a drink, join us!" He called out, beginning his playing again - instead the starting chords of _I'm Going Slightly Mad_, to which Crowley's ears perked up. He was ready to begin his massacre of the first line, when Aziraphale dragged him away by the arm, leaving Chloe to deal with the devil, who was continuing the verse without his lead singer.  
"You're no fun," Crowley commented, taking a long drink of the glass Aziraphale had only now noticed.  
"The last time I saw you two you were at each other's _throats_. What happened, Crowley? What happened to this being a work trip, and no time for dilly-dallying, and -"  
"I would _never _say dilly-dallying."  
"You know what I mean!" He was shouting as quietly as possible, but regained his composure when he noticed people casting glares over to them. "What happened to you wanting to kill the devil right here, right now?"   
"Well that was before I found out what a good party he throws. You know he's had Celine Dion here before? _Celine Dion_, Aziraphale!" Crowley beamed. "Are you angry? I thought you wanted this. _Los Angeles, city of the Angels_ and all that."   
"But you said -"  
"I say a lot of things, angel. Changed my mind, though, didn't I? Get something to drink, maybe you'll stop being such a..." He waved in Aziraphale's direction. "Goody two-shoes."  
The angel chose to ignore that comment. "I just don't understand how your whole dynamic can change in less than two hours!"   
"If you're jealous that I'm hanging out with my ex, Aziraphale, you just had to say so." Crowley's words felt like bitter knives in his throat, and before Az even had the chance to question what _exactly _he meant by that, Crowley was running off, chirping an off-tune "_I'm driving only three wheels these days_" and Aziraphale was left wallowing in the weight of the situation.

He caught Chloe's eye from across the room, and supposed that her conversation with Lucifer had gone very similarly. They looked a picture, the two of them standing with the exact same dejected expression, the same defeated stance, and the same question brimming in both of their minds. 

_Ex?_


	6. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doom Days - Bastille

The interruption of their duet sparked a flare of annoyance in Lucifer's eyes, but he didn't allow himself to show it - instead cheerily inviting the detective to join them in their wonderful little tribute of Queen. She didn't seem pleased, though. He wasn't planning on letting that stop him until Aziraphale dragged Crowley away, rather aggressively, he noted, and he was left alone with the detective.  
Well, alone in a room with one hundred and fifty other people.

"So you do know him?"  
"Turns out, yes, I do," Lucifer replied cheerily, pushing the piano key cover down so he could lean on it.   
"So a guy comes to Los Angeles, hits a cop to see you, and you're in here having a little duet? Was that what was so important?" Chloe asked, visibly frustrated.  
"I wouldn't expect you to understand, detective," he looked over at Crowley and Aziraphale. It appeared that Crowley was having a similar situation with the way that he was waving his glass around wildly.   
"No, of course you wouldn't."  
"And what is that supposed to mean?" Lucifer was getting angry now, and it was showing. His grip on his emotions was faltering visibly, and it was taking everything in him to not explode into tears, or rage, or both.  
"You don't _talk _to me, Lucifer!" She exclaimed. "Everything I know about you comes from _other people_. You knew Ella for a week and all of a sudden she knows everything about you, and I'm still clutching at little pieces of your personality that I _think _ is there." She was visibly holding back tears. "I trust you, Lucifer. I just wish you trusted me in the same way."  
He stared at her, only able to gawk in response to her outburst. He was trying to gather his emotions, scrape up his thoughts to say _anything_, but she was speaking again before he could manage.  
"You know, I'm happy that you met your friend again, Lucifer. You seem to enjoy being with him far more than you do with me."  
"No," He blurted out.  
"No?" Chloe repeated, her eyes wide.  
"Detective, please," he didn't know what he was asking her for, but it was resonating through his entire body so hard that if his hand wasn't firmly on the piano it would have been shaking. "This isn't about you. There are things happening that I don't understand."  
"What things?"  
"I want to tell you," Lucifer replied, his voice shaky. "But it'll scare you away. It'll ruin everything. I can't do that, Chloe."  
It was always strange, hearing Lucifer say her name. She was so used to him only referring to her as her title that the sound of it in his mouth was a completely foreign word. It held weight, though, in a way that she didn't really understand. Of course, she didn't believe that whatever he was hiding would ruin things. She was steadfast in her belief that she had seen every side of Lucifer, for better and for worse. "Can I ask you one thing, then?"   
He hesitated before he nodded, his eyes wide and pleading. "Yes,"  
"Who is he?"  
Lucifer clenched his jaw, looking over at Az and Crowley. Their argument appeared to be plateauing, and Aziraphale seemed defeated. He returned his gaze to her, studying her face in the dim lighting of the club. "My ex," he said, jaw clenched.   
She looked shocked for half of a second. "Him? I mean.." She trailed off, but returned. "You two are similar, but I wouldn't think, I mean... _Really?_"  
"It was millennia ago. I'd forgotten his name until you said it. He'd changed it, but that isn't the point. I haven't thought about him in forever."  
"So why did he come?"  
"He thought I was going to start Armageddon,"  
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Okay. Cool." She shared a look with Aziraphale in that moment, and her nonchalant charade melted away for a second as they shared a newfound empathy with each other.   
"He doesn't normally punch police officers."  
"No. Yeah. I guessed as much."   
"I feel like this is awkward," Lucifer said. "It's fine. We're not going to go off on a stint any time soon. My impromptu Vegas marriages are unfortunately over. And I think I would have someone who would object to our holy matrimony," he gestured at Aziraphale, then shook his head. "If that was it, detective, I have some songs to play. The crowd won't entertain itself."

Chloe sighed when he started attacking the keys again, walking off to search for Aziraphale. Maybe they could compare notes.  
"Fell," she called after him. "What did he say?"  
"They were together," Aziraphale said, sounding shellshocked.  
"Yeah. He told me that too," Chloe replied. "But why the standoff at the beginning? Why was it all so aggressive?"  
"Perhaps it ended poorly." Aziraphale shrugged. "Crowley always said that he didn't mean to fall."  
"Fall?" She turned her gaze back toward him, visibly confused.  
"Fall into bad habits," he quickly corrected himself, then attempted to distract her. "Maybe we should talk to them. In a quieter environment." They both looked over to the piano, which Crowley laid across the top of. They watched as he attempted to drink from his glass as he laid down, spilled half of it down his chin, and cackled at his own mistake before continuing his chorus.   
"You're probably right." She replied. 

It took ten long minutes before they watched Crowley and Lucifer waltz off to the elevator, waving off the people in the club.  
"Come on," Chloe tapped Az's shoulder, and they shuffled off toward the now closed door. Az pressed the button to summon the lift back down, looking over at Chloe. There was concern dripping from his face.   
"What do you think they're doing up there?"  
"Don't think about it, let's just... Figure it out as we go along."

As they were brought up to the penthouse, they heard the increasing noises of shouts and yells coming from the penthouse. "What are they..." Chloe breathed. "Do you think they're..."  
"Fornicating? No," But Aziraphale didn't seem so sure of himself. The two had to close their eyes before the doors open for fears of witnessing such an explicit scene. Instead, they saw the two of them standing, surrounded by shattered glass, up in each other's faces.

"You never understood artistic license, did you?" Lucifer was shouting.  
"It's not artistic license when it's just plain _wrong_!"  
"It was one chord!"  
"You played an E minor instead of a regular E. You are a _moron_. You have _never _-"  
"What is going on?" Aziraphale shouted over them, and both heads snapped in their direction and started explaining their plea over each other.  
"Be quiet!" Chloe exclaimed. "What happened here?" She gestured at the glass smattering the floor. "What is this?"  
Crowley responded before Lucifer had a chance to explain it away. "Big fuck-off wings was what happened here. Just like - massive."  
"What?" Aziraphale asked.  
Lucifer looked shocked. He glanced at Chloe, then at Crowley, and suddenly began to laugh.   
"What does that mean?" Chloe asked.  
"You wouldn't get it. It's - it's an inside joke." He stopped laughing and rubbed his face. "Anyone want a - oh," he had been planning to offer them a drink, but from the liquid pooling around the shattered crystals on the floor, it wasn't likely that was going to work.  
"Lucifer, I wanna talk to you," Chloe said, sounding defeated.  
"Okay,"  
"Now."  
"Oh," Lucifer turned to Crowley and Aziraphale. "Well, there are rooms down that way. I don't know if you'll be sharing or..." He waved them off. "You'll sort yourselves out."


	7. 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luci - Zand

Once the two were gone, Lucifer got to work on cleaning up the mess. He wasn't a massive fan of doing his own chores, but an on-call maid wasn't going to be the best idea at the moment - not his version of one, anyway. And in that case, no cleaning would get done anyway.  
"Lucifer," Chloe said as he pulled a cloth out of the cupboard, soaking the alcohol on the counter. "Lucifer." She repeated, and when she didn't get a response, she stormed over. "You're doing that wrong. You need a paper towel."   
He didn't make any eye contact with her as he pulled the towels out of the cupboard, ripping sheets off and placing them over the liquid. "What a waste," he muttered. He wasn't sure whether he was talking about the drink.  
"Lucifer, would you please just -" he wasn't looking at her still. "Lucifer!"  
Her voice reverberated, bouncing off the walls of the silent room. Finally, he looked at her, and she sighed with relief. "I know something's up. I know you don't want to talk about it, but -"  
"Understatement of the millennia, detective," he smiled, ripping off more sheets.  
"Stop doing that," she huffed.  
"Doing what?"  
"All of it. The snarky comments, the cleaning up so you don't have to focus. When have you _ever _cleaned up after yourself?"  
"It'll get sticky," He grumbled.  
"I'm sure you can afford a mop."  
He put the towels down, stood straight, and stared at her. "Go on then," he said when she didn't speak for a little while. "Rip into me about how I'm ruining my own life. You sound just like my brother. Surprised you're not going to go off about my _purpose_, or my _responsibilities_, or..." He closed his eyes and took a breath in.  
"I'm not going to say that," she responded quietly. "I'm worried, that's all. Normally when you're like... This..." She gestured in his direction. "It doesn't last as long as it has. Whatever's happened, I know you don't want to talk about it... With me." She shook her head. "But you can talk about it to someone. Linda, or one of those two. They seem to understand where you're coming from. Maybe they'd understand better than you think I will."  
Lucifer didn't respond, and Chloe didn't waste any time continuing. "But I want to understand. I want you to trust me, and I can't force that, I know. But it would be nice. Everything's been so hectic, and it feels like recently you've been putting up walls. Fell said that -" she paused, unsure of why she was quoting the words of a man she had only met a couple of hours ago. "Fell said that it might be because you're scared of me seeing who you are. But I know, Lucifer I _know_ that whatever it is, whatever's going on with you, it can't be so bad that it would ruin this."  
His expression softened, and he absently picked up one of the larger pieces of the glass pieces on the countertop. Running his finger gently against the edge, feeling the rough edge without going deep enough as to cut through his skin. "I want to," he said finally, his voice quiet and almost timid. "I'm frightened, detective."  
"There's nothing you could tell me that could scare me more than losing you to whatever this is."  
Lucifer stared at her in awe, aware that she truly didn't know what she was saying, but also driven to finally show her the truth of all of this. And what better way than to -  
"Have you got any towels?"  
Lucifer flinched when Crowley's voice screeched through the hallway, sauntering into the room. The demon pulled a face at the sight in front of him. "Am I interrupting something?"   
"They're in the cupboard over there." Lucifer pointed, visibly annoyed. The moment was gone, his chance ruined, and he felt his chest sink when he realised that both he and Crowley were staring at the droplets of blood falling from the devil's thumb.

"Right, okay," Crowley replied quickly, shuffling over in the direction Lucifer had pointed and almost sprinting back to his designated room, and Chloe and Lucifer were left in silence once again.  
"I should.. I should head off. I asked Dan to look after Trixie for a while, he's going to be wondering where I got to."  
"Yes. That's probably for the best," Lucifer nodded. "I'll see you, detective."  
She started to head out, and turned toward him as she waited for the elevator door to open. "You can come back to work any time, Lucifer." A pause as the doors pinged. "And like I said, if you wanna talk -"  
"Goodnight, detective."  
"Goodnight, Lucifer."  
He was alone in the room, returning to his chore of clearing up the spilled whiskey from the countertop with shaking hands. Only minutes later, Crowley and Aziraphale walked back into the room, and Crowley looked like a man on a mission. His sunglasses were off, expression indicating that he was a very concentrated mixture of angry and confused.

"What was that?"  
"What was what?" Lucifer asked, only half interested.  
"That!" Crowley wiggled his finger toward the devil's hand.  
"Apparently you were bleeding, Lucifer," Aziraphale said, his tone a lot more collected than Crowley's.  
"Yes," Lucifer responded succinctly, peeling the damp sheets off the counter and dropping them into his bin. "Not any more. Closed up, all sorted," he showed his hand to the two.  
"No," Crowley said, shocked. "The devil doesn't _bleed_."  
"Well clearly he does," he replied defiantly. "And it's none of _your_ business as to why."  
"Is it her?" Aziraphale asked quietly, and the two turned to look at him. Both confused, but for different reasons. Silence seemed to be a recurring theme today, because it seeped through the walls and into the room like a shadow cast through the trees. Only lit by the moon, the penthouse felt like it was closing in on the three of them.  
"I'm going to bed," Lucifer responded, storming off to his room, sliding the door shut behind him.


	8. 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dark Side - Bishop Briggs
> 
> Shorter chapter tonight, my apologies.

Lucifer cursed the morning sun as it seeped in through his window, interrupting his otherwise pleasant sleep. No dreams, no stresses, just an abyss of empty that served as a comfort compared to his regular day to day life. He wondered fleetingly whether that inky blackness bared any resemblance to where he'd banished his mother. He didn't know whether that thought was comforting or anxiety inducing, and he didn't plan on wasting any more time dwelling on it.

The two were either still asleep, or had disappeared overnight - but Lucifer didn't particularly seem to care. Instead, he continued the cleanup of his kitchen absently, scowling when he realised that all of his surfaces were extremely sticky. He muttered to himself, grumbling about always being right - and he shouldn't have been interrupted - and if he could just rip off these _stupid_ wings -

"Good morning," Aziraphale said. He hadn't changed clothes, but they still appeared perfectly ironed, his hair not mussed in the slightest. He wondered whether the angel had even slept, or if he was simply this well put together all of the time.  
"Morning," he responded. "I suppose this is going to be a rerun of last night,"  
"It is quite concerning, you must admit."  
"It's old news, is what it is," Lucifer grumbled.  
"I wasn't aware that the devil bleeding was old news." He seemed lost. "When does this date to?"  
"Two thousand and sixteen, probably."  
"Hardly old," Aziraphale raised his eyebrows. "Anyway. Crowley is still in bed. I could probably sort all of this out, give you some time to disappear before the conflict begins again."  
Lucifer nodded at him in appreciation. "Thank you, Aziraphale," he said, quickly pulling his blazer on before rushing out to the exit.

* * *

He considered the idea of visiting the station to get some work done; Chloe _had_ invited him, after all, but he felt there were other things at stake.  
And so he sat on the roof of his building, his palms clasped together and his eyes tightly closed. "Come in, Amenadiel," he muttered quietly, praying that the reception wasn't shoddy in the silver city, praying that the angels had granted him his wings back.  
"Hello, brother." He heard behind him, and Lucifer span to meet the angel's eyes.  
"You're back." He said breathlessly. "Where have you been? I've needed you!"  
"Heaven has had business that it's had to take care of." Amenadiel replied. "They needed me there."  
"Do you mean Armageddon?"  
Amenadiel faltered, blinking hard. "How do you know about that?"  
"So it is?"  
"You weren't supposed to know that."  
"And why is that, Amenadiel?" He growled, his features looking harsh in the light of the sun. "Did you know? Did you know that the beast was running rampant? And you didn't tell me?"  
"It was in your best interests not to,"  
"What?" Lucifer shouted, visibly livid. "Why?"  
"Because I knew you'd act like this, Luci!" Amenadiel exclaimed. He stepped closer. "Things were going well with you here. I could see a difference in the Lucifer that I knew. If I told you what was going on, could you honestly tell me that you wouldn't have spiralled into a pit of self loathing and aggression?"  
Lucifer reeled back. He certainly wasn't expecting to hear that. "You've been consorting with celestials for far too long, brother. You've started to sound like them."   
Amenadiel didn't seem phased. "I am doing my job. I am protecting you. It's not any of our fault that some Judases had to get in the way of what was meant to happen here."  
"Judases?"  
"I believe you know one of them. Crawley - another was Aziraphale. A younger celestial, evidently, if he's prepared to run around with a demon on his arm."   
Lucifer blinked. "And they're being hunted?"  
"They were already hunted. They resisted the death sentence by inexplicable means. Now, they're being incapacitated."  
"Why?"  
"Does it matter? Does any of this matter, Luci? I have a job to do."  
"Wait - Amenadiel!" He shrieked, but the angel had already made his dramatic exit, leaving Lucifer in the dust. 


	9. 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Complicated - Fitz and the Tantrums

Lucifer stormed back down to his penthouse, adamant on receiving some kind of answer for all the questions that were swimming around in his head. They had mentioned Armageddon, yes, but certainly not being excommunicated. Why hadn't he been consulted about performing the death penalty on Crowley? Why was this such a big issue? After seeing the way that they vehemently cursed him for his devilish disposition and 'threat' to the outer world, he was more confused than ever that any cohort of hell or any arch of heaven would want to remove them from their ranks.

"You're being incapacitated?" Lucifer shouted as the elevator doors dinged open, looking around at the penthouse. It was squeaky clean, and Aziraphale stood in the middle of the room looking as if he'd done something wrong. "You cleaned up?" He asked, tone softening considerably.  
"You've offered us your home. The least I could do was help out."  
"Oh," Lucifer shook his head. "I still want to talk to you two."  
"And I want to talk to you," Crowley shouted from down the hallway, walking in as casually as he could. He was fully dressed, but his hair was damp, his sunglasses clipped onto his shirt.   
"We're at a stalemate, then," Lucifer grumbled. He looked over at Aziraphale, who was twiddling his fingers together awkwardly, like a child waiting to be excused. "There's a nice bookshop down eleventh street." Az looked thankful for the reason to leave, and didn't give the two a chance to change their minds before he was out the door like a light.

"You bled,"  
"You're being excommunicated,"  
Crowley scowled at that. "I was stopping a war between the divine. You, on the other hand, are at risk to whatever psychopath finds out that you can bleed."  
"Not quite," Lucifer responded. "I am not constantly at risk."  
"So Aziraphale was right? It's that woman? What is she, Nephilim?" Crowley shook his head. "And you still consort with her? If you die, you won't return to being the king of Hell, Lucifer - you'll be cast down with the rest of them and left to wallow in your despairs. How is that worth a little fling?"   
"Crowley." Lucifer warned.  
"No. You are putting yourself in the hands of danger, and for what? A human lifetime of happiness? That is nothing! Generations pass quicker than the blink of an eye, and you want to risk all of it for a couple of relative seconds? What is wrong with you?"  
Lucifer paused. "I have been in therapy for a very long time, Crowley, and it's been a mostly useless tirade, but it has taught me something that fits like a glove here."  
"And that is?"  
"You're not angry because I'm bleeding. You're angry because I changed,"  
"That's bollocks."  
"Is it?" Lucifer responded. "You've been on my throat since you came here, wanting some kind of reaction out of me that would fit in with your sick little view of me. I'm not that _thing_ any more, Crowley. You defeated the final part of what you knew of me two months ago." He took a sharp breath. "You're clinging on to this because you want to be with someone who, by comparison, makes you feel less worthless. Less like a sack of evil shit. But that doesn't _work_, Crowley." He clenched his jaw. "You're so busy staring longingly into the past that you can't see what's right in front of you."  
"And that is?"  
"The doting angel that cast away the responsibilities of heaven to tend to you." Lucifer responded, his expression steely. The demon in front of him opened his mouth a few times, searching for the words to say that would bat away the realisation that was settling rapidly.  
"We were just looking to avoid a war." Crowley said after a while.  
"What?"  
"If there was a war, it would have meant fighting." He made eye contact with the devil. "Each other."  
"What do you mean, a war?"   
"The final battle," Crowley said, as if such was obvious. "Between Heaven and Hell."  
Lucifer was shocked. Why hadn't he been told about this? Any possibility would suggest that there was something going on behind the scenes, specifically with Amenadiel. He had been left in an empty room with a painted window, and told that he could leave any time that he wanted - Amenadiel had lied, and Lucifer was furious.  
There was a moment between the two of them while they collected their thoughts about the revelations they had separately experienced, and they finally made eye contact. "I'm sorry, Crowley."  
"For what?"  
Lucifer had to think for a few seconds. "Well, if we'd never..." He trailed off. "Then you wouldn't have fallen. I corrupted you. Made you do my dirty work - do I really have to continue?"  
"As satisfying as it is, no." Crowley shrugged. "I'm not angry. What I did was unforgivable, but not because I did anything wrong. Rather because Heaven's standards about self awareness are piss poor."  
"We can agree on that one."  
"So, shall we go and find Aziraphale?"


	10. 9

Aziraphale had been traipsing around the streets of the city, searching absently for the book shop that Lucifer had claimed was on this street, and was growing evermore convinced that it had simply been a rouse to get him out of the penthouse. He didn't mind much; there wasn't a lot that could go down that would truly upset him, but the way that his mind was racing and his adrenaline was rushing despite the lack of an obvious threat told the angel that he was anxious, though unsure of why - was it the fact that he was walking around in a city he barely knew, or the fact that Crowley could drop him at the drop of a hat with no real repercussions to the demon?  
Perhaps the angels were correct when they slated demons as untrustworthy vermin to be finally exterminated in the last great battle.  
He shook his head. Absolutely not. He had seen a humanity in Crowley - a word that likely didn't make sense in the context, considering he was anything but human, but he had no other words to explain it. He could create a word, but there was no real grouping of vowels and consonants that could convey how much the demon really meant to him. 

He trundled past a shop that advertised cheap phone repairs in neon lights, searching the streets for a signpost that would give him a hint that yes, a scrap of home was somewhere in this facade of a city. But there was nothing. Ready to give up and apologetically head back to the penthouse, he bumped into a woman who appeared to be very stressed.  
"Sixty dollars?" She had shouted before colliding with the angel dropping a jacket on the floor and cursing under her breath.  
"Is there something wrong?" He asked, leaning down to pick up the article of clothing, but being cut off by her snatching it up.  
"Nothing. It's fine." She replied hesitantly. Clearly, this woman didn't trust him - and while her intuition was faulty, it was fair, to say the least, to not trust everyone she bumped into in a busy street.   
"I'm sorry." He stepped back to give her a little more space. "You wouldn't know where there's a bookshop on this street, would you? I was told..." He looked out at the long stretch of buildings. "Maybe I was led astray."  
"I wouldn't know, buddy. I'm still getting to grips of the city myself. And the fact it takes sixty freakin' bucks just to get your phone checked out and for them to do nothing about it."   
"About what?" He was curious, but wracked with confusion. Technology had perplexed the angel since the first computer was built, unable to wrap his head around everything that went behind Crowley's apps about infuriated avians and the sort.  
"It's not turning on. It's my personal phone, so work won't cover it, and I really need to contact my brother," she seemed dejected. "Sorry. I'm wasting your time."  
"No, no," Aziraphale smiled. "May I see it? The phone? I've been told I can work miracles on this type of thing."  
She still seemed adverse to the idea of handing a valuable over to the angel. "Uh, I appreciate it, buddy, but I don't think -"  
"Wait." His eyes lit up, and he slipped one of his shoes off, handing it to her. "I can't run with only one shoe, can I?"  
The girl was evidently confused, but equal parts amused - and seemed to be happy to hand the phone to him once she had grips of the shoe. "Do your worst,"  
Aziraphale took the small slab of metal, staring at his reflection in the makeshift mirror. He fiddled around with it a bit, so not to make his miracle granting _too _obvious, then held down the on switch, proudly handing it back to her when the logo flashed on the screen.  
"Dude," she laughed. "That's crazy. How did you do that?"   
He shrugged nonchalantly, but was secretly buzzing. He had missed the joy that came from the little acts such as this. "I read a lot." He responded simply, hoping she wouldn't push any further.  
"That's pretty cool. Well, it was nice to meet you -" she gestured for him to state his name, and he grinned - perhaps a little too wide.  
"Aziraphale,"  
She didn't miss a beat. "Ella Lopez. I've gotta head off, but seriously - thank you, Aziraphale."   
With that, she rushed off, pressing her phone to her ear once she got a certain distance away. So there Aziraphale stood again, basking in the joy he had created. With a new spring in his step, he started walking further up the street.

He was still lost when he saw Crowley's car screech around the corner, and cursed himself for being pleased when he saw Lucifer in the passenger seat. Dejected, he waved at the two, and the Bentley screamed to a halt next to him. He opened the side door and slipped into the back seat, saying nothing as he looked at the two in front of him.  
"Did you find it?" Lucifer asked, sounding slightly disinterested.  
"No," Aziraphale responded bluntly, analysing the two in front of him with a poignant thought at the front of his mind. Was this how it was always going to be? Was he always going to be in the back seat compared to Lucifer? He didn't know; and it seemed that God's plan was becoming more ineffable with each passing second.


	11. 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dark Side - Bishop Briggs

As the three drove, the subject of Armageddon found its way back onto Lucifer's tongue. "So. Armageddon." He rubbed his hands together as though he was prepared for the two to launch into a wonderful tale involving love, loss, and perhaps a cliche that the devil found guilty pleasure in. Perhaps a sort of deus ex machina would ramp up the story, turning it into a tale of two creatures from opposite upbringings...  
He lost his thought.

"You know the tale. The birth of the antichrist, the influence of Hell, the choosing of the name..." Lucifer nodded along to what Crowley had to say. "Well, we fucked that right up, didn't we, angel?" Crowley took a moment to remove his eyes from the road and glance back at Aziraphale, who was staring absently out of the window, clearly not listening to either of them. "Aziraphale," Crowley repeated, snapping him out of his dreamy trance.  
"Mmm? Yes," he blinked, staring at both of them. "Wait, what?"  
"We..." Crowley shook his head. "Nevermind. Anyway, we got the wrong baby. Mixed up in the hospital. Followed one kid for a decade thinking, 'this is the boy that'll bring about the end of days', and turned out the _real _antichrist was sitting pretty in Tadfield."  
"Tadfield?"  
"Tiny little village. Could probably run the length three times and still be home for dinner." Crowley laughed at himself, then continued. "So we find out, oh no, this kid's not the antichrist, and head over to the little village searching for the kid, and he'd already kicked it all off by naming the hellhound - and get this - Dog."  
"Dog?"  
"Dog."  
"Dog," Lucifer repeated, laughing to himself. Aziraphale didn't catch the look that Crowley cast through the rearview mirror, searching the angel to see if he had been as enthralled by his storytelling as Lucifer had been. When he saw Az had returned to his spot staring out the window, he sighed.   
"But we sorted it all out. Met the relative of a witch, found a book of prophecies, smack bang pow, everything was sorted." He continued. "Your beast was defeated by an eleven year old boy."  
"That's a wonderful boost to the ego," Lucifer shook his head in slight contempt, but all it was all in good fun. "Where are we going?"  
"You think I know?"

As they drove with no purpose throughout the pit of California, Lucifer's phone rang, being summoned by Chloe to the police station - they needed his help, apparently. With that, he began directing Crowley's erratic driving through the streets to arrive straight outside the precinct, where Lucifer all but sprinted out - leaving Aziraphale and Crowley in the car, alone again. Aziraphale contemplated how bad it must have gotten for him to dread these moments of alone time between them.

"Right, what's up with you?" He asked, turning his head to face the angel.  
"Nothing," He feigned a smile. "Nothing at all, no worries here."  
"Aziraphale."   
"It's nothing!" Aziraphale was barely kidding himself at this point.  
"Since when do we hide things from each other?" Crowley seemed aggravated. Aziraphale had no idea why - he wasn't the one who had been overtly consorting with his ex right in front of him. He had no idea why it was hurting him so much. It wasn't like they had anything between them, was it?  
"I don't know, Crowley." His tone shifted for the worse. "Since when?"  
The question hung in the air, and Crowley's face sank behind his glasses frame. He looked like a kicked puppy, and in seeped a feeling of instant regret.  
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean that," Aziraphale said softly. He didn't receive a response from Crowley, who had averted his eyes. "I'm just upset. I don't know why..." He sighed. "I don't know why you didn't trust me enough with this. I thought I knew it all about you, and every second you spend with _him_ I see another side to you that I don't recognise."  
"It's not about not trusting you, angel. You know I do."  
"I would hope so. It's only been millenia."  
Crowley smiled at that, but the relief was brief. "It's just different. Not in a good way, but not in a bad way, either."  
"But why didn't you tell me about it sooner?"  
"Because -" Crowley had to stop himself from sounding too aggravated at the question. "Because he's the reason I fell, Aziraphale. And I'm ashamed that I allowed him to manipulate me into thinking like that. I'm ashamed that he's changed and I haven't, that all of this happened as a result of my own naivety."  
"But why does that stop you from telling me?" Aziraphale was still confused, and hurt was sinking into his chest.   
"Because I didn't want to do the same thing to you."   
Crowley spoke quietly, but his words were enough to make Aziraphale feel like he had been flattened by a mountain, like a meteor had crashed smack bang in the middle of his forehead. "Crowley..."   
"Don't, Aziraphale." He cut him off. "I don't want your pity."  
"I don't pity you."   
Crowley went silent for a while. "And you know what? Even after all of that - after falling from grace for him, I failed a task. Something stupid. Some city, in the middle of nowhere. Deserved to sink." He coughed. "I spent half an aeon, cut up and hung in Abaddon like a piece of meat, then cast off onto Earth without a second thought."  
Aziraphale was in shock. "How can you be so fine with him now?"  
"Because that was the body. The vengeful one, the Typhon, the Behemoth, the Infernal One..." He spoke the names like there were daggers in his throat, spitting each one out like droplets of blood. "That was the one _we_ defeated. It's like the Lucifer here is the one I knew from heaven, wings and all."  
"Wings?" He recalled Crowley spouting something about 'big, fuck-off wings' the night before, but hadn't paid much heed to his intoxicated ramblings until now.  
"Yeah. Said they just... Reappeared when Armageddon was cancelled." Crowley laughed despite himself. "I make it sound like a music festival in poor weather."  
Aziraphale offered a small smile at that. "So, you two -"  
"No." Crowley said, once again interrupting the angel. "We spoke while you were out, but things make sense now."  
"Like what?" He spoke hesitantly, almost too afraid to ask.  
"He told me that I was so focused on the past that I wasn't looking at the good thing right in front of me."  
"What good thing right in front of you?" He asked, genuinely intrigued - the angel was about as aware as a mole popping its head up in a bed of roses.  
Crowley only smiled, shook his head, and opened the car door. "Shall we see what the devil's been getting up to?"


	12. 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guess I'm Doing Fine - Beck

Lucifer had slipped out of the Bentley before he had the chance to hear what was going on inside the car. From the looks on both of their faces, they were going to be in there for a while, and he wasn't prepared to get in the middle of a catfight. Especially not a celestial one. Not today.  
Instead, he strolled into the precinct, saying his hellos to anyone who passed him by - addressing each one by their names, accompanied by a little wink. They seemed surprised to see him back, and he supposed that it had been the second time he had shown his face here in the past two months - they had the right to gawk.   
It didn't make it any less annoying, though.

"Detective Douche," he called the name with a tone that suggested sweetness, but triggered ire in the man that received it. Dan looked up from his desk, his cheek slightly purple from the beating he had received from the demon only a day previously.  
"I thought you were on leave," Dan huffed, not making eye contact with the devil.  
"Hoping it would be permanent, were we? Well I'm back - no need to worry about that." He shot a grin at the man, who responded only with a scowl.  
Their ears both seemed to prick up when Chloe entered the room, bouncing her eyes between the two of them to measure the level of tension that had been created within the seconds Lucifer had arrived. "You two good?" She asked, training her gaze on Lucifer. "You?"  
"Yes. Wonderful." He subconsciously straightened his blazer. "What was it you needed me for?" He placed emphasis on the word 'needed', casting a glance toward Dan.   
"Uh - yeah." She rushed over to her desk, speaking as she stepped. "Did things work out last night? It seemed to be a bit... Tense."  
"Absolutely fine, detective. All just a big misunderstanding."  
"A misunderstanding between exes." She confirmed.  
"We're all used to them, aren't we?" He offered a smile, looking between Dan and Chloe. "How is the bruise, by the way? Seems Crowley hit you hard enough to leave a mark on that porcelain skin." His tone was incessantly mocking, and to Lucifer's joy, the cop took the bait.  
"You know him?"  
"Of course! Old chums." He replied. Chloe cleared her throat, but the devil paid no heed. He was enjoying this far too much. "Not my doing, the cheeky little slap, but what can you do, eh? Seems he has the same taste in people as I do."  
Dan made various noises in protest that didn't really form a sentence, looking expectantly at Chloe.  
"You're acting like kids. Stop it," Chloe said, exasperated, and when she turned her back, Lucifer stuck his tongue out at him; really driving home her point.

"_Anyway_," She said, loudly enough to interrupt the two. "If you're finished with your dick measuring contest -"  
"No contest on that one." Lucifer interjected, shut up once again with a glare.  
"We needed you in here because we figured that you could, you know, pull a few strings, figure some things out for us."  
"With what?"  
"There was a kingpin who was based in LA for months. Couldn't get anything on him - his lawyers were too good. But we got an undercover in, got enough evidence to put the guy behind bars, and he's nowhere to be found." She pushed the computer monitor toward Lucifer. "Recognise him at all?"  
The man on the screen looked hardened. Every one of his face features looked sharp, his nose slightly crooked from what Lucifer guessed was a result of a back-alley nose job - a punch to the face, that is. His hair was dark and tight to the sides of his skull, blue ink decorating his cheekbone.  
"Needs some chapstick," Lucifer said confidently.  
"What?"  
"His lips are all - never mind. No. No idea. Never seen him before."  
"Sure he's not one of your friends?" Dan called from across the room.  
"If I wanted an audience, Dan, the entire city would be crowded around this desk." He responded snappily, returning his gaze to the screen. "I'm sorry, detective. Can't help you."  
"Would you be able to work your mojo on people? Figure out if they know anything about him?"  
"I doubt anyone desires that man." He nodded. "What's the name, anyway?"  
"Dorian Jones." She responded. "Just goes by Disc."   
"I have _never_ heard of a gang leader with an acceptable name. It's like there's a market for these ridiculous -"  
"Would you focus?" She wasn't up for his jokes today - and he wasn't sure if it was because of the case, or the events from last night. Either way, he adhered.

"So this Disc, did he have any... Goons?"  
As if on cue, Aziraphale and Crowley came stumbling down the staircase leading into the precinct, grinning like cheshire cats when they made eye contact with Lucifer. "Hello," Az chimed. They both seemed much happier than they had been when he'd left, and Lucifer would be glad if not for the fact that they were _really _cramping his style right now.  
"You invited them?" Chloe asked.  
"Invited is a very strong word,"  
Crowley had a shit-eating smirk painted on his face that only tripled in size when he saw Dan's face, which had twisted into a sick caricature of himself.   
"What the _hell_?" He exclaimed.  
"Spot on," Crowley responded, shooting finger guns at the man before arriving next to Lucifer and Chloe.  
It wasn't like Chloe wasn't used to Lucifer bringing his new pets along on cases, but there was something very different with this one. With Candy, with Eve - at least there was no ambiguity there. There was something much deeper that she wasn't aware of here - something that involved real feelings, rather than one of Lucifer's impulsive stints. "Hi, Fell. Hi, Anthony." She said quietly, turning her attention back to the screen. "So, here -"  
"Crowley is fine." The demon said.  
"What?"  
"Crowley. My name." He cast a glance toward Lucifer. "Is she a bit dull?" He asked quietly; but clearly not quietly enough, as Chloe opened her mouth, speechless, then picked up her paperwork.  
"You know what, if you three want to solve this yourselves, then be my guest. I'm sure I'll just be interrupting your little bonding time." She snapped, storming off.  
"Detective!" Lucifer called after her, breaking into a jog to keep up with the surprisingly fast paced power walker.

"Detective," He repeated, following her into one of the quieter hallways in the precinct. "Detective!"   
She stopped and turned to look at him, tears gathering in her eyes. His expression softened exponentially. "What?" She asked, trying - and failing - to avoid the crack of her voice.  
"I didn't mean - he didn't, I mean... Let me help you with that." He rushed to help her hold some of the paperwork she was cradling, random sheets of paper collected to make her exit seem more calculated than it was.  
"No!" She shouted, and he flinched away. "I'm fine. It's fine, Lucifer. You go off with them, I'll sort this out. I just thought I wanted your help, and I didn't. It was a mistake. This was all a massive, massive mistake."  
"You're not talking about the case, are you?" His voice was quiet, and she caught his gaze just as two tears fell to the linoleum floor.  
"Lucifer, whoever they are, out there - it's not my business, okay?" But everything was telling her that it should be, that she should be worried, that she should be fighting for whatever the hell _this _was.   
"Whoever they are?" Lucifer repeated. "Chloe, they're nothing. They are drops in the ocean to me. They needed my help. They were ready to slit my throat yesterday. They don't know me."  
"And I do?" She responded, anger peaking in her voice once again. "I don't know anything about you, Lucifer. Glad to know that I'm not special, that you keep all your -" She seemed like she knew exactly what she was going to say, but cut herself off. "I just don't want to be messed around, Lucifer. I don't know what this is, but if you're more interested in the people out there, then maybe we shouldn't be partners."  
"Chloe," he sounded shattered. "I told you, I want to tell you. I was going to tell you, but -"  
"He got in the way?"  
She wasn't wrong, but in the same way, she was. There were shouts echoing down the hall, and Lucifer recognised the voices specifically as Dan and Crowley. It was only going to be seconds before Aziraphale came tottering down the hallway, calling for some backup, and he would be split in two halves as to who to stick by.  
"You should probably go find out what's going on," she said, but didn't move.  
"Detective, I don't -"  
"You know, I shouldn't have even bothered with you. I should've just asked Maze to do this. She's way more useful, more trustworthy, more -" she searched for a word to continue her spiel, and despite his hurt, he filled it in like a deprecating game of mad libs.  
"Missing." He said, and the two shared a look of shock.  
"She was searching for a guy - he had links to -" With that, she was running back up the hallway.  
"To who? Detective?!" He called after her.

When he caught up with her, her eyes were glued to her computer, Crowley was practically restrained in an office chair by Aziraphale, and Dan had an even sourer look on than before. "To who?"   
"She was searching for this guy, sold guns, narcotics, the whole warehouse to gangs. He was on the run, just like our Disc - and they were linked," she looked up, expression painted with sudden joy. "We have a lead."  
"We only have a lead if Maze comes back with him." He hated to rain on her parade, but it came out before he had the chance to stop it.  
"You're right," she ran a hand idly through her hair, rubbing her eyes.  
"How long has she been on the hunt for this guy?" Lucifer asked, sure that she'd never been gone for this long before - certainly without contact.  
"Two months."

The penny dropped.


	13. 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heaven - Amber Run

Two months.

Lucifer was stupid. He was an idiot, a moron, a dunce, a halfwit who didn't know how to put two and two together.   
Maze was gone. And despite his retrospect reminding him of all the times she had purposefully screwed with his life on Earth, this wasn't her. This was far too insidious to be the work of the demon he had spent so long beside. Far too subtle to be her handiwork, but also far too obvious to be Amenadiel's doing.   
Regardless, he needed a chat with his brother.

"Two months," he repeated back to Chloe, and she furrowed her eyebrows.  
"Does that matter?" She asked, clearly confused. "She left, like, right before you went..." She widened her eyes to stress her point without directly referring to his mini breakdown, and he nodded, turning his eyes back to Crowley and Aziraphale.  
Both of them sat with the same bewildered look in their eyes, cogs turning behind their skin suits. This had to do with Armageddon. Their thoughts were all scrambling in a sick cabaret, kicking at all the wrong moments, twirling just out of sync.   
"We should probably contact her. See if she's, uh, okay."  
"I tried a couple weeks ago. Her phone was off. I didn't think much of it - do you think she's missing? Should I put out an alert?" Chloe seemed to be growing more concerned by the minute.  
"No, it's... It's okay. I think I know what's... What's happened here." His breathing was becoming considerably more ragged, and there was panic beginning to set in. There was something far greater at play here, and he had the feeling he knew what it was.  
"What do you think it is?" She asked. "Do you know anything to do with this guy? Would you be able to help us find him?"  
He stared at her as if she had uttered the stupidest question he had ever heard, and she shook her head at him. "What?" She asked. "Why are you looking at me like that? Have I missed something? Does the time she's been gone matter?"  
"Clearly," Crowley grumbled. "We have to go,"  
"Yes," Aziraphale muttered in response. Lucifer looked between the two of them, then back at Chloe, his expression still steely and unreadable. Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked out of the precinct like a man on a mission. After a second, Crowley and Aziraphale scrambled to join him.  
"Lucifer!" She shouted after him. "Lucifer, you can't just - Lucifer!"  
She didn't receive a response before Crowley's car was screaming down the street once again, and she stood gobsmacked in its dust.

"It's been two months since Mazikeen disappeared. Two months since Amenadiel left to the silver city. Two months since my little friends made their entrance, and two months since Armageddon." Lucifer said feverishly. "Which means something's happening."  
"When we stopped it, we just stopped the beast," Aziraphale said from the back seat. "We didn't necessarily halt the war."   
Crowley turned the wheel sharply, stopping abruptly outside of Lux and gesturing for them all to _hurry the fuck up_.

"So what was that? The 'kingpin' malarkey?" Aziraphale asked hesitantly.  
"Bait, probably," Crowley said in reply as he punched the 'up' button in the lift. Lucifer stood stoic and silent as they conferred about what had happened.  
"From who, though?" Az asked, and Crowley only looked back with a grave expression.  
"Whoever they are, they knew the devil was here."  
"Like we did,"

The door pinged, and Lucifer stormed out, breaking his silence from the car ride. He slapped his hands together in a mock prayer, snapped his head to face the ceiling, and boomed "AMENADIEL!"   
It probably would have been awkward if nothing happened, and the three had to listen to the echo of a failed attempt bounce off the walls of the penthouse. But within a second, time had halted, and Aziraphale, Crowley, and Lucifer stood in a strange formation as they faced Amenadiel.  
"What, Lu-" he would have sounded annoyed if he hadn't been cut off by his own shock. "You brought them here."  
"No." Lucifer responded. "You have some explaining to do."  
"Lucifer, you are harbouring celestial _outlaws_. I have to take them in!"   
"You don't _have_ to do anything, _brother_, except explain to me what the _FUCK_ is going on!" His voice was loud and threatening, triggering Crowley's memory of the growl of the beast. But there was one great difference, a difference that spanned thirteen feet, a difference that stood white and glorious and ethereal yet threatening, breaking through the seams of Lucifer's clothes and practically curling around the two in a subtly protective pose.  
"I don't understand," Amenadiel feigned confidence, but behind that hardened exterior, there was fear bubbling. His brother was volatile, a firework waiting for a tiny spark to explode.  
"You blamed my ignorance on my emotion. Told me I had changed. Told me I would spiral, when in reality, you were hiding away to prepare for a war against _my _demons?"  
"They're not yours, Lucifer. You gave them up when you abandoned your post." Amenadiel's tone was beginning to match Lucifer's, and Crowley and Aziraphale seemed to shrink behind them. In any other circumstance, Crowley probably would have commented something about 'mummy and daddy fighting' to get a smile out of Az - but his voice was clogged in his throat.  
"I'll stop this. You know I will. You _know_." Lucifer snarled, to which Amenadiel laughed.  
"You think you can stop your subjects? This is it, Lucifer. The war is only now beginning. Nothing will stop this."  
"What would our mother say?" The words seemed to rip out of the devil's throat, slicing and stabbing and impaling every inch of Amenadiel's being with each rancid syllable.   
"Brother -"  
"No." Lucifer said abruptly. "As long as you can accept this, as long as you can go by their rules, their ideas, we are not _brothers_."  
"It is God's plan, Lucifer! He gave you your wings back for a reason! He -"  
"His ineffable plan?" Aziraphale's voice was small compared to the two titans battling it out in front of him, poking his head out around Lucifer's wings. "God's... God's ineffable plan?"  
"Our father who art in heaven, ineffable be thy plan?" Crowley added, and Amenadiel turned to the two with the fury of a thousand suns.  
"You two-"  
"You leave them alone," Lucifer interjected. "You go back to heaven, and you lie in _fear_ of what I'm going to do to you when I finish this."  
"It is dense of you to believe that you have what it takes to stop this, brother."  
Without another word, Amenadiel was gone.

The three stood gasping for air as time returned to a fluid state, all collectively feeling as though they were ready to collapse. Lucifer's wings shook with an uncontrollable energy, a ringing in all of their ears that masked the chime of the elevator.

"Lucifer?"

A female voice, shocked and breathless, came from the open door.

"I followed you home,"

Her voice echoed through Lucifer's ears.

"I didn't -"

A sob.

"Oh my god, it's true. Lucifer. Lucifer, look at me. Please, look at me."

She was begging him, and all he could do was stare at the empty wall. Tears were welling in his eyes, leaking out before he could blink them away.

She was in front of him. Chloe Decker, standing with an expression that entailed both wonderment and inconsolable fear, but he couldn't look at her.

He wouldn't look at her.

It wasn't meant to happen like this. He was meant to be ready, he was meant to prepare her. He was meant to provide her with comfort, rather than her grabbing onto his suit jacket, shaking him, shouting at him to say something.

He was meant to be the one being dragged away from her shellshocked body, kicking and screaming and begging her to _Look at me, please, look at me_. 

"Lucifer,"  
A man's voice. He caught Crowley's unmasked, golden eyes.  
"Your sunglasses. She'll see." He whispered.  
"She's seen. She went home. You were... You were out."  
"She wasn't meant to see," his voice was a weak rasp. "She hates me. She hates what I am."  
"No," Crowley insisted. "No, she left to give you space. She doesn't hate you. She's afraid."  
"Afraid of me."  
"Afraid _for_ you."  
Lucifer's eyes moved to the sky, then to the floor. "I have to go."  
"Where?"  
But, leaving a pristine feather, the devil was gone.


	14. 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Calling Me - STACEY

"We have to find him," Aziraphale said, staring at the feather that lay untouched on the floorboards.  
"Yes," Crowley responded bluntly. 

The past two hours had been silent for the two of them, sitting cross legged next to the spot Lucifer had last been in.  
"I'm scared, Crowley."  
The demon looked up, stared at the angel, and nodded. "Me too," he said softly.  
"We need to find her." Aziraphale breathed. "The detective."

And so they headed out, sped toward the precinct. Crowley's car engine juttered like it knew the fate that was meeting them, like it shared in their growing anxiety of the unknown. In they walked, the spring in their step broken, lines on both of their foreheads from their tense expressions.  
When they got there, the station was mostly empty. A few officers milled around, looking precariously at the couple over their paperwork.   
"Who do we -"  
"Aziraphale!" 

It was a female voice that the angel recognised. Certainly not the detective's. It was far too bubbly, too joyous to be her. No, girl bounced up to him - all dark eyes and dark hair that framed a wide grin. "Are you okay?" She asked.  
"Hello, Ella." He said softly, a spark of hope burning in his chest.   
"Dude, I have to thank you again for the phone thing. It ended up being nothing, the thing with my brother, but - who are you?" She looked pointedly toward Crowley, then engulfed him in a hug. "Nice to meet you, whoever you are."  
"Crowley," he said gruffly, awkwardly patting her back.  
"We need your help, Ella." Az said. "Could you... Could you help us? It's a matter of utmost importance."  
"Oh, I can help you. For a price." Her expression was stony, but it broke in a matter of seconds. "I'm kidding! What do you need?"  
"Decker's address." Crowley said bluntly. "As soon as possible."  
"I can't really -"  
"Ella." Aziraphale interrupted her. "Need I take my shoe off again to prove that you can trust me?" He looked afraid, and that, in turn, made Ella anxious. "I don't deal in favours. That's more Lucifer's ballpark. But I need this one."  
"Lucifer? You know him?" She cracked a nervous smile, but then nodded. "Okay. Okay, I can do that. I have it in my phone, here." She pulled the device out of her back pocket, fiddling a little before showing them the glowing screen. Aziraphale scanned it, then nodded.  
"Okay." He nodded, turning to Crowley.  
"You know Lucifer?" Crowley asked.   
"Oh, yeah. Dude's great. You seem his crowd. Are you guys doing a biblical film?"   
"What?"  
"You're method actors, right?"  
"Oh. Yes. But we're worried about him. Lucifer. We... Could you track him in any way?" Crowley asked. Once again, she seemed hesitant, but the way they seemed ready to drop to their knees and beg was enough to sway her. Ella nodded slowly.  
"Yeah, sure. I can work on that. If he has his phone on him, if he's used it, then I could probably trace him. Plus, CCTV, and -"  
"Thank you!" The two called back, rushing up the steps. "Call Decker with updates!" Aziraphale added.

"Come on, baby," Crowley muttered to the Bentley as he slammed his foot on the accelerator, swerving around corners to get to the destination Lopez had given them as quickly as they possibly could. The car roared to life, like power had been breathed into it, and seemed to zip past every car, screech around each intersection, and narrowly avoid every red light.

Aziraphale knocked on the door first, and as they nervously stared at each other, the last thing they expected was for a little girl to swing the door open. "Is this the new antichrist?" Crowley muttered quietly, and in any other situation, Aziraphale would have laughed.  
"_Mommy__!_" Screamed the child, and out of a bedroom door slipped the Detective, looking a little worse for wear.  
"Go back to your room, Trixie." She said softly to the girl, patting her back. Once she was gone, she looked up at the two. Her eyes were red, her skin blotchy, her hair matted. "What do you two want?"  
"He's gone." Crowley said. "He left, and we need to know where he went."  
"Why?" She sniffled. "He's probably gone because I saw - oh God -" a sob climbed its way up her throat, and she had to cover her mouth to stop it from erupting.   
"Yes, but.. No." Aziraphale said, his tone as calm as it possibly could be. "Can we come in? We'll explain everything to you."  
"Are you two - I mean, I saw his eyes, but... Are you two _demons_?" She whispered the last word, almost as though she was scared anyone else would hear her.  
"Crowley is. I'm an angel. Now please, can we come in, Chloe?" He pleaded. Decker nodded, opening the door a little bit wider.

It took a while to explain the whole story to them, and it took Crowley three reruns before Aziraphale chose to tell it in a much less disjointed way. She sat in silence, staring at the two of them with eyes that were wide and fearful, but also in awe.   
"I never believed him. I mean, there were times that I questioned it, but..."  
"We never would have come to you if we didn't need to." Aziraphale said softly. "It's just that - if he's doing what we think he's doing..."  
"Which is what?"  
"Rallying the troops of Hell against Heaven. Or the opposite. We're really not sure." He shook his head. "But whatever it is, we know that if worse comes to worse, Chloe, you - you're the key to stopping it."  
"No," Chloe insisted. "No, I'm just Chloe. I'm just a detective. I'm not - he doesn't care about me that much."  
"He cares about you enough to bleed for you," Crowley said.   
"Bleed?"  
"The devil doesn't bleed, if you hadn't gathered. And around you... For whatever reason, he does."  
This seemed to set her off even more, and tears crashed across her cheeks before she wiped them away, breathed in, and nodded.  
"Okay. Okay, so if this doesn't work..."  
"The world ends." Crowley said.  
"No pressure," Aziraphale added.  
She nodded, her eyes still wide and watery. "And how do we find out where he is?"  
"Well -" Aziraphale started, but Chloe's phone ringing interrupted him.  
"Hang on. It's Ella," Chloe said softly. She answered the call, holding the phone up to her ear. She was silent for a little while, before her brow furrowed. "Okay. Okay," she said after a while. "Thank you, Ella." She said before hanging up and looking at the two. "Where the hell is Tadfield Air Base?"


	15. 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Horse With No Name - America

So it would end where it began, the angel and the demon realised, staring at each other. As Chloe considered the story that had been told to her, it was evident when the realisation set in, for her face fell and her chest seemed to sink.  
"We have to go." Aziraphale said.  
"But you said Tadfield was in _England_. We can't just hop on a plane to England, we'll be too late."  
"No. We have to go now. We have to leave, we have to go. There's no time." Aziraphale said restlessly, standing up. "Okay. Let's go. Let's just go. It'll be fine. Crowley, you've driven through fire. You can... You can get us there, right?"  
Crowley was staring at Aziraphale with a smile despite himself. "It seems, angel, that you've forgotten our most valuable assets."  
"What?" Aziraphale's eyebrows furrowed. 

And then, once again, it set in. "Oh,"  
"What?" Chloe asked.  
"Chloe, you're going to need a babysitter for... her... Tonight." Crowley pointed in the direction of Trixie's room.  
"I'm still confused."  
"Just get one." Crowley said sharply, and she didn't waste any time tapping Dan's number back into her phone.

"Dan, I need you to look after Trixie tonight. Something's come up. Just... Come down. I have to go now." She said, then paused. "No, I can't wait. It has to be now. You need to do this for me, Dan. Please." Another pause. "Please." Silence, and then, "thank you. The key'll be under the mat."   
She hung up, looked at the two, then rushed to Trixie's room.

Aziraphale heard her say something about 'mommy' being 'back soon', and he smiled wearily, looking over at Crowley. "Do you think..."  
"Don't."   
They shared a sigh, then smiled when she emerged.   
"Shall we?" Aziraphale offered her an arm, which she hesitantly took as they led her outside. 

She didn't know what she was expecting when vast wings erupted from the backs of the two, matching both of their strangely contrasting aesthetic in a strangely complimentary way. Chloe gasped as she was launched into the air with the angel, gripping on tight to him with all the strength she had in her body, being supported by both of his arms as they soared over her apartment, over buildings and skyscrapers and clouds, into the inky blackness of the night.

Crowley could only think as they flew, staring at his the angel with the woman in his arms. It was strangely ironic, he supposed, that the angel was carrying her to a place that certainly would not guarantee her safety. Direction seemed to come naturally to the two, and they swerved with all the expertise that they could muster.

He supposed that it reminded him of old times, frolicking with angels in the silver city, flying high above their maker and dipping as they grew into their responsibilities. The flaming sword, the serpent - it all seemed so far away now, and yet, with Aziraphale, it had gone quicker than the blink of an eye. He realised rather quickly that there was nobody else he would have rather spent the aeons with.

In the time he spent in Abaddon, he had clung to the single name that could give him the hope to grit his teeth through the explosive pain. While the memory was a blur of red, his angel's name beat loud in the absence of a heart.   
His.

It was hard to believe that the time they had spent in Los Angeles had been so short. The single night that he'd spent sleeping in the same room as Aziraphale, resting his racing mind, was the most peaceful rest he had ever experienced - and Crowley had slept through an entire century before. There was no-one he would have rather spent the stressful times with, and yet he wished there was a better future for the both of them.

That was just it, wasn't it? The only future he could envision was one with Aziraphale standing by his side, laughing at his shit jokes, squeaking over a newly found antique book that really, Crowley didn't care about - but he would pretend, just for the angel to give him that stupid smile.  
He looked over at Az, his eyes trained oh-so-concentrated on the clouds in front of them, and had to revere the strength that the angel had. Excommunicated from heaven, abandoned by all but his little forbidden pal, and still smiling with the light of the sun. 

For the first time since his fall, the demon prayed - prayed that whatever this was wouldn't take his angel away from him, wouldn't ruin everything that they'd built together. Prayed that this plan, however ineffable, had its way to string the two together, keeping them close. He could stand a world where there was nothing but himself and Aziraphale, sure, but a world intact without his angel was not one worth living in.

_Please._

_Please, don't take him away from me._

There was no marker, no trigger that told the two of them that they had reached their destination, but they shared a look, and they began their descent. He heard the angel muttering to Chloe, saw the way that he smiled that _stupid_ reassuring smile, and prayed just once more that it wouldn't be the last time he would see Az smile.  
As they sank to the ground level, they stared at the sight that beheld them; a crowd of creatures that seemed to emanate a murky darkness surrounded around a single man that seemed to glow with heavenly light.


	16. 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Death on Two Legs - Queen  
/  
Love of my Life - Queen

The crowd was filled with the translucent bodies of demons without vessels - caged somehow in place by the glare that their leader seemed to cast upon them. Electrifying and steely, Lucifer stood tall among them. The devil was glowing. A great white light, akin to the air base's spotlights, was polluting the night sky, clouding every star in the dark sky above them. The time zone change meant that while it had only been around eight when Crowley and Aziraphale left, it was four in the morning now, and the dawn was rearing its head.  
Crowley wondered if he'd ever see the sun again.  
The light came from great wings that the devil seemed to have taken charge of since the first time Crowley had seen them, shattering the glasses around his penthouse. The feathers no longer quivered, but jolted with sparks of pure energy, and he seemed to have encapsulated every single demon's attention with the light he had brought with him.

Light bringer, Crowley had to remind himself, was the literal meaning of the fallen angel's name. Fallen from grace, but not from glory - as was evident. He had all the power this universe had to offer. The humanoid creature in front of them could turn off the sun with the snap of a finger, and it reminded Crowley of the beast that he once knew. The dark look in his eyes, the empty expression that seemed triggered more fear than a scowl could ever muster up.  
Aziraphale curled his wing around Chloe, hiding her from the gaze of the devil. He hadn't noticed, it had appeared. He was far too focused on the glaze that he was casting across the hefty crowd of creatures.

Crowley knew each of them by name, by power - revered some of them, but even Beelzebub shrank under the devil's glare, and Azazel sank away into the shadows that his brethren cast. The light from Lucifer bounced off of Aziraphale's pristine suit - and while this once may have drawn attention, all eyes were on their Lord.

"This war will not go on," Boomed a voice from the front. With a shudder, Crowley recognised it as the beast's, channelled through a body he would have once perceived as frail.

There was silence, and then an uproar of chatter from the crowd. Shouts about treason, about lack of leadership, about their leader being weak.

Lucifer reached out his hand, and Crowley flinched as Asmodeus was reduced to a pile of dust on the tarmac runway with no more than a flick of the devil's finger.

"You will obey me." A throaty, primal scream from the devil, and there was quiet - but then another voice.

Gabriel and Michael seemed to drop from the sky like meteors, briefly followed by Metatron himself, creating a triangle that appeared far more intimidating than the fleet of demons that seemed repulsed by their glow.   
"Stand down, Lucifer." Michael said. He had no need to shout - his voice carried throughout the airbase fluidly and without falter. "You stood down as the King. There will be no orders from an AWOL soldier."  
Lucifer stared at the three, then smiled manically. "Brothers," he uttered simply. Once again, the devil cast his eyes across the crowd, and seemed to lose the smallest bit of grandeur when he noticed Crowley and Aziraphale in the back. "You've come to watch the show, my friends!" He laughed, distorted and jarring. "To watch my subjects crawl at my feet, to witness my brothers flee in fear."  
"We will do nothing of the sort." Piped Gabriel.  
"I killed our mother, Gabriel. I killed Uriel. What makes you think I'd stop at them, hm?" There was contempt in his voice, and Aziraphale could feel Chloe shaking underneath the protection of his wing.  
"You're just an insolent little boy, Samael," hissed Metatron. "A stupid little angel who got far too big for his boots. Making the world your dumping ground could only last for so long until the beast caught up with you - and look at you now." The three stepped toward him. "A murderer. A beast. A loser."   
Lucifer seemed to shake with pure energy, and Crowley nudged Aziraphale.  
"It has to be now," the demon hissed, and the angel could only nod. He removed the wing from around Chloe, who, despite her shaking, seemed composed and unfazed.

She stared at Lucifer with a shaky breath, then called out to him. Her voice was not nearly as loud as the celestials, but it was loud enough to catch his attention, to break the trance for a second.  
"Detective?" He breathed, his eyes wide.   
"Look at you. Vulnerable at the hands of a puny little human." Michael cackled. "Well, let's give it a crack, shall we?"   
A shooting beam of light erupted from Michael's hand - but instead of aiming at Lucifer, it was directed straight at the detective, who stood like a deer in headlights as she faced almost imminent death. Chloe shut her eyes tight, protecting her face with hands that held bunched up sleeves, and then - nothing.

Everything was frozen, and Chloe opened her eyes to see the beam was moving sluggishly toward her, every demon moving as if being shifted frame by frame - even the angels being stopped in their tracks.  
"Chloe," Lucifer breathed. His eyes were glowing an ichor gold, his body shaking. She ran to the devil, allowing herself to sob as she grabbed the suit that seemed to hang off him - torn to pieces by the immensity of his wings.  
"Lucifer, you need to - you need to stop this, please. Please. I'm not angry, I swear, I'm not angry at you. I'm not scared. I don't want to lose you. Please." She was speaking quickly, panic starting to set in. "All the things I said to you about you not trusting me, about you not telling the truth - I understand now. I understand. Please."  
"Enough."  
Another voice, one that was familiar to the two of them, echoed around them, and Amenadiel seemed to appear from nowhere. "None of this is about either of you. Not any more."  
The angel waved his hand at Crowley and Aziraphale, who launched into action - both leaping toward the beam of light and landing on each other, clutching onto one another for dear life.  
"You two,"   
They both paused, then poked their heads up, staring at the sight in front of them. "Amenadiel," Aziraphale gasped, running to join the three of them with Crowley following close behind. "What's going on?"  
"God's plan may be ineffable, brother. Crowley." He acknowledged the two separately. "But Chloe Decker was placed as a direct request from God. This war... This war is unnecessary. The removal of evil, of good, only leaves one of the two - and neither can exist without the other. That much is obvious."  
"So is that it? That's all?" Chloe seemed hopeful, her knuckles white with the sheer power she was gripping onto Lucifer with - as if he'd slip away from her if she didn't hold on tight enough.  
"Not quite." Amenadiel responded gravely. "Hell requires a king. None of this would have happened with someone to overlook it."  
Lucifer seemed shocked. "I can't.. I - I can't leave Earth. I can't leave, not now." He looked down at Chloe, the gold sparking out of his irises to reveal the deep brown behind them.  
"No. There has to be something else. Please," she sobbed. "He can't leave. Please."   
"There is," Aziraphale said quietly.

There was another beat of silence.  
"What do you mean?" Lucifer asked, shocked.  
"There is another way," Az said simply. "I am an angel. Hell must be ruled by an angel. I have been excommunicated, they don't need me. This way, I keep my divine powers, and you and Chloe may remain."  
"No," Crowley said. "No. Absolutely not. Aziraphale."  
"It's the only way, Crowley. It's the only way to fix this," Aziraphale replied, looking back at the demon with a regretful smile. "Hell could probably use a spring cleaning anyway. And I know most of my favourite authors are down there -"  
"You can't!" Crowley shrieked. "You can't leave Earth! You can't leave me! What am I meant to do, Angel? I have spent aeons chasing after you, wreaking havoc for an excuse to bump into you. You can't just _leave_. Not now. I can't - I won't live in a world without you. I can't."   
"Yes you can," Aziraphale responded firmly, but Crowley was still shaking his head, tears filling golden eyes.  
"I can't lose you. I can't. Aziraphale..." He grabbed onto the angel's hand, clasping them in between his palms and staring him straight in the eyes. "I need you here. I've always needed you here. You heard what he said, about - about evil not existing without good - I can't exist without you."  
"You aren't evil, Crowley," Aziraphale seemed shocked at the statement, shaking his head. "Anything but. I've seen you work your miracles. I could return to Earth every so often, you could come to Hell whenever you want. This makes sense, Crowley. You know it does."  
"No, it doesn't," Crowley sobbed. "It was meant to be the two of us against the world, against the Earth, forever. I can't do that without you. I can't. What about your bookshop? What are you going to do with that? You can't leave. I can't make a decent cup of tea to save my life. Please, you can't leave."  
"You can look after it." Aziraphale smiled. "I'll visit, I promise."  
"But how often? Hell needs a permanent ruler, Aziraphale, you can't just - you can't just leave whenever you want like Lucifer did. You saw what happened there."  
"_You _can visit, Crowley," he was clutching at straws to convince the demon, but it wasn't stopping the flow of tears coming from both of their eyes. "Hell's just down south a bit."   
"I can't go back there," Crowley whispered. "You know I can't you - you _know I can't_."   
"You can." He responded firmly, giving his hands a tight squeeze. "And you will."  
"But I love you," Crowley hissed through tears, and Aziraphale could only smile, pulling the demon into an embrace that could warm the arctic. "Please, angel. Please don't."  
"Nothing will change. I won't change, I promise. I'm not - I'm never going to be Lucifer. I was ashamed of that for a little while, you know? I was afraid you'd never see me the same way you saw him, but I know that I don't need that, because I'm not going to lose myself." He promised.  
"How can you know that?" Crowley wept into his shoulder.  
"Because I have you, you stupid, stupid demon." Aziraphale laughed. "Can you tell me you wouldn't do the same thing, if it were for me?"  
"Absolutely not. I can't stand you," Crowley managed to joke through the tears, and the two shared a smile that was more pitiful than anything. They took the seconds to breathe, to look back at Lucifer and Chloe, locked in a hug that looked as though it would protect the two of them from everything else in the world, then back to Amenadiel, who stared with a wry smile and a sorrowful gaze.   
"I'll do it," Aziraphale said softly. "I'll be the king."   
"You make it sound like a chore," Lucifer said softly, smiling through his own few tears. "I'm sorry, Aziraphale, Crowley, if I could -"  
"It's okay." Aziraphale cut him off. "It's all gonna be fine. I hope you left Hell in good shape for me."  
"Not at all."  
"Good. Lots of work to do."  
"Then let it be done."

Time returned to normal, and the blast that was meant for Chloe pummelled straight into the ground, leaving a crater in its wake. The triad of angels looked around, shocked, until they saw the five together, standing with a confidence that they did not have before.  
"Brothers. The war is over," Amenadiel said, his voice commanding and authoritative.  
"It has not even started, Amenadiel." Michael protested.  
"You directly tried to damage Father's plan by putting Chloe Decker in harms' way - a woman put in Lucifer's path by Him himself. But worry not - the war is not delayed, no, it is cancelled permanently - for there is a new king of Hell, and I think he has some changes to make around here."  
"Who?" The angels muttered amongst each other.   
"Aziraphale,"  
"The Judas?"  
"He is an angel who has fallen from your ranks and into the highest rank of Hell. I would fear his wrath, brothers." Amenadiel cast his gaze toward the crowd of demons, chattering quietly. "And that goes for you too. You will worship your king with every aeon of your infernal lives. You will be commanded, you will obey, and you will not diverge from his ruling." Aziraphale had to stop himself from going red. "All hail the new king of Hell!"  
The call was returned - the angels dispersed back to heaven with a huff and a puff of dust, and the demons sank back into their pit, leaving the five on their own again.

"I suppose this is it, for now," Aziraphale said. "It was very nice to meet you, Lucifer, Chloe," he nodded at the two of them. "Best of luck to you in the future. Amenadiel," he gave a small, grateful smile, then turned back to Crowley. A light grew behind Aziraphale, and it was growing obvious that his descent was imminent. He didn't have long to say his piece, so he would have to keep it short and sweet. "Crowley, you have made life on Earth a delight. Keep the book shop running, or I might have to pay a visit."  
"Don't tempt me." Crowley smiled weakly.  
"And -" The light began to engulf the now-fallen angel, making him less visible by the second. "I love you too," could be heard, before his voice faded away, leaving nothing but the four of them, standing in a half-demolished airbase in complete quiet.

In the distance, the sun peaked over the horizon.


	17. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gods & Monsters - Lana Del Rey

Two months seemed to be the magic number.

It had been two months since Aziraphale had gained his crown as the king of hell, and Crowley hadn't been in Tadfield since - instead heading back to LA with Lucifer and Chloe. He figured they were getting a bit sick of him hanging around, especially when he began walking in on things that he _certainly _shouldn't have been walking in on.  
What could he say, he thought she was getting hurt.

Two months since he'd stepped foot in Az's bookshop, listening to the jingle of the bell above the door and secretly wishing they didn't rush out to LA before they really took in the place.   
There was sun beating on the windoow, leaving a sunflower yellow filter over the bookshelves and giving it all a bit of a sepia hue. The smell of dust and old books was welcoming - a scent he never predicted he'd miss, but here he was, breathing it in and dousing himself in the nostalgia. If he closed his eyes, he could hear Aziraphale humming as he dusted his antiques, huffing as he noticed that there were smudges on the protective covers of his most prized books. 

The memory passed him by like a motorcycle, and all he could do was bask in it.

Crowley walked around the shop, and let his eyes settle on the two cups of tea that lay on the table, next to the seat that was still creased from the last time he had slumped in it, gobsmacked. The two cups didn't seem to be touched. Silently, he cursed himself for not giving them two more minutes to drink that stupid tea.

Everything had felt like a blur. While life seemed liveable, what Crowley was doing could not be considered _living_. Most nights, he'd sat in the corner of Lux, nursing a two litre bottle of Jack and cursing out anyone who dared come near him. Even when Maze came back, her charms were hardly enough to get him out of bed in the morning.  
Well, it was her bed, and her 'charms' were more like her various knives.  
She'd seemed shaken by the experience, not going bounty hunting for a little while. He recalled her saying that she was stupid for falling for such an obvious trap, but Crowley didn't think it was so obvious.

Then there was the time Lucifer dragged him to his therapist's office, dumped him on the sofa, and made him sit and talk to Linda about his feelings. Even though she knew what was going on with the whole 'demon' thing, it seemed Lucifer hadn't filled her in - as he spent more time talking about Aziraphale and their journey than his actual feelings.  
Well. Aziraphale _was_ the only thing that was on his mind, and it _was _the only thing that he talked about freely and wistfully.

Crowley shook his head, casting his eyes over various titles. What this shop needed was more plants. Something to really get his anger out on.  
The bell above the door rang, and he didn't bother turning his head before grumbling. "Closed,"  
When he didn't hear the bell ring again, he span halfway around, exclaiming "closed!" louder, but dropping his jaw at the sight in front of him.

It was Aziraphale, as clear as day, staring at him with a wide smile and the same suit he'd always worn. He looked like the most beautiful thing Crowley had ever seen, and he couldn't stop himself from launching himself at his angel. "Aziraphale!" Was all he could grumble, and Az laughed.  
"The tea went cold, then?"  
"Yeah, just a bit." He smiled, tearing up despite himself. "How long are you here?"  
"A couple of days should be good. Only an hour in hell, really." Aziraphale responded. "Shall I get the kettle on?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to everyone who actually read this since I truly wasn't expecting like ANY traction on my writing,,,, this honestly started out as a joke with a friend and then an idea in the shower and I truly don't know how I got it up to 20k+ words but iG it was down to all the kudos and comments that i received egging me on to continue. Anyway, thank you all v much <333


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